


Tilly's Dream

by StarryEyes2000



Series: That Night In The Cave [2]
Category: Star Trek: Discovery
Genre: Dream Sex, F/M, First Time, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-11
Updated: 2020-10-21
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:07:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26955601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarryEyes2000/pseuds/StarryEyes2000
Summary: Tilly has been hurt in an accident during an away mission. Pike is caring for her as they shelter from a storm after being stranded planet side. This story is the dream Tilly experiences while there.It is a companion to ‘That Night In The Cave’ but it is not necessary to read that story in order to follow this one and vice versa.
Relationships: Christopher Pike/Sylvia Tilly
Series: That Night In The Cave [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1967035
Kudos: 9





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This story takes place between the end Chapter 5 and beginning of Chapter 7 in ‘That Night In the Cave’.

Tilly could not get comfortable. This second night, the ground felt harder, which shouldn’t be possible. She squirmed trying to relieve the pressure on her back. It was sore and the hard surface intensified that. With a splinted leg, wrapped wrist and sling immobilizing her arm and protecting her collarbone on her left side and a sore right shoulder, she couldn’t turn to her side. She tried to distract herself, but the need to move, to ease her aching back kept building. A spasm ripped through her lower back and she cried out.

Pike was on his feet and at her side in an instant. “What’s wrong?” Unintentionally it came out as an order as he searched for new injuries.

“My lower back, I think the muscles seized. And the rest of my back is so sore, it hurts when it touches the walls or the ground.” Tilly replied, tears pooling in her eyes.

He eased her on her side and lifted her shirt. A dark purple bruise covered her entire back from when she landed, hard, on the ledge. “Oh Tilly.”

“What? Is it bad?”

“Your back is seriously bruised. Which explains the discomfort. Bruises can take a while to develop. And your muscles are reacting to the rocks. Are you having any problems laying on your side?” She shook her head. “If you can tolerate this position for half an hour, I should be able to relax the muscles. Is that OK with you?” She nodded.

Slowly and gently, then with increasing pressure he massaged her lower back. It hurt at first but then the spasms subsided, and it was … delightful. She couldn’t hold back a moan of pleasure. Pike stopped the massage and leaned over to ask, “Am I hurting you?” All she could manage was to shake her head vigorously as she begged him not to stop and struggled not to think about what else those talented hands could do. Much too quickly it was over.

Pike looked around the cave for anything he could repurpose to make a Tilly a softer, more comfortable place to rest. But there were no other supplies left. Except him. Wanting to ease her suffering, he sat beside her, very close, his back against the cave wall. “Tilly, I need you to keep your broken leg from moving as I turn you. This may hurt but it will be much better once you are settled. Ready?”

Still feeling relaxed from the massage, she cooed yes. And a minute later she was nestled between his legs and leaning against his chest, his arms around her so she wouldn’t fall in either direction. Sighing with relief she snuggled closer and drifted to sleep.

And then dreamed …

The camaraderie that begun as they sheltered from the storm in the cave gradually developed into friendship and then more. Leading to this moment – the beginning of their physical relationship. Chris insisted they go away, away from the ship, away from any Stafleet facility, so his time and attention belonged solely to her, which only made the wait longer. Agonizingly long for Tilly.

She tried to talk to Michael about her nervousness, but it turned out, although almost a decade older, Michael had even less experience with physical intimacy then Tilly did.

“It has been my experience,” Tilly admitted to Michael last night, “that sex is either a waste of two minutes or a good use of five. Then you just feel lonely and alone even if he hangs around.”

“I’d only been with one guy before Ash Tyler,” Michael confessed, “on shore leave from the Shenzhou not long after I first joined her crew. It was … better than I expected but it was intense, so I never felt comfortable getting involved with anyone on the ship.”

“I guess there is not a lot of dating at the Vulcan Learning Center nor the Vulcan Science Academy.”

“Not so much, no.”

“Do you think I am making a mistake? Not only getting involved with someone on the ship, but with the _Captain_?”

Michael sat down beside Tilly and hugged her. “No. I didn’t think I could handle it at that point in my career. But you and the Captain obviously care for each other. You can trust his judgement – he would only suggest this step if he believed you are ready. Try not to be anxious.”

Tilly wailed and started pacing. “How can I not? It isn’t like sex is a science! I tried studying the few instruction manuals on the subject that I found in the ship’s library. Unlike engineering, you _really_ need practice to understand the theory!”

Not knowing what else to say that might be helpful, Michael blurted out the first thing that popped into her head. “Maybe the Captain’s not experienced either.”

“Oh,” Tilly groaned as her eyes grew wide, “that would be even worse.” She slumped back onto the bed beside Michael. “This is going to be mortifying, I just know it.”

“Maybe it is easier when sex happens spontaneously rather than being planned. No time to be nervous.” Michael said, trying to be helpful.

Tilly nodded. “I should have jumped him that night in his quarters when we first talked about going away and had it over with.”

Michael laughed. “How special.”

Tilly rolled her eyes. “Like getting into cold water or ripping off a band-aid. You get the initial, dreaded part over with and then it feels good.”

“Again, how special.”

“He’s probably writing a protocol manual specifying what is in and out of bounds.” Tilly thought about it for a few seconds, “Though, that could be good, then it would be like homework and I am _good_ at homework.”

“Try to relax.”

“You know the worst problem?” Michael shook her head and Tilly continued, “If we had made out when we first met and it wasn’t good, no big deal. We’d have gone our separate ways or formed a different kind of friendship. Now if the physical part doesn’t work out, I could lose one of my best friends. Is it worth that? Whoever suggested you should be friends before becoming lovers hasn’t a clue.”

“You can still be friends.”

Tilly shook her head. “Friends yes. But not with the same emotional intimacy. I’d miss that. I just want tomorrow to get here so we can get this over with.”

ooooo

Now that tomorrow was here, she wanted to go back to last night. _Maybe perpetual anticipation is better._


	2. The Setting

While she waited for Chris to arrive, Tilly explored the cottage that would be home for the next five days. Unless another signal appeared, but she pushed that thought away, so far there had been weeks and weeks between appearances of the signals. Chris had insisted their destination be his secret but asked for her preference – warm or cold? Her response was ‘surprise me’ as thoughts of long walks in the sun surrounded by flowers and trees vied with spooning in front of a cozy fire. That had amused Chris. “Mild then, so you know what to pack.” And that was her only clue of what to expect.

This exceeded her expectations, exceeded anything she might have dreamed or imagined. The private cottage was nestled on a sun-kissed hillside amid acres of olive and oak trees. With gardens off each room. The kind of gardens she loved – haphazard and wild looking rather than formal. _How could Chris have known that_ , she thought. They were north of San Francisco, but she felt like she was in Provence.

Indoors, the décor was sun-and-earth-toned, simultaneously relaxed and sophisticated, understated and elegant; and every room featured private terraces and fireplaces. Rich silk and velvet fabrics in warm cream, orange, green, and brown echoed the surroundings outside. The living room contained a large, deeply cushioned sofa wide enough to lay together side by side. There was a tiny well-equipped kitchen. _I feel like such a grown-up_ , Tilly thought.

Next, she explored the bathroom which was nearly as large as the living room in order to accommodate an oversize soaking bathtub and a double shower with jets that shot water in every direction, at every height. Continuing down the hall she came to the bedroom. Peaking in she squealed with delight.

The ample bed, which looked to be bigger than a California king, was covered with soft textures including a silk-lined cream linen coverlet with sage green piping. Cream silk rugs covered the floor in front of an enormous fireplace. Already she was thinking about making love on those luxurious rugs.

Separated from the bedroom by double French doors, a terrace, sheltered by a garden, included another soaking tub and an outdoor shower. Plus, a double chaise lounge by a fireplace. A perfect spot for snuggling on a chilly evening and … well other things came to mind.

Those thoughts were interrupted when she caught site of Chris walking towards the cottage. Dressed in simple jeans and a dark grey collared shirt, untucked, with the last two buttons at the bottom undone. The shirt was snug in all the right places and the wind periodically blew it allowing her a brief but slight glimpse of taut abs and a trim waist. It surprised her to realize she had never seen him in civilian clothes other than a sweatshirt and workout pants. And it was weird to see the Captain in jeans. And it suited him – he looked good, really, really good.

Her nervousness returned.

He dropped his bag on the floor and gave her a fond kiss on the cheek. “Pleased?”

She nodded enthusiastically.

“I’ve been in meetings all day – how about a walk through the olive grove? And maybe a picnic?”

She nodded again, afraid to speak, start rambling and embarrass herself.

Chris grinned at her, “This is not the Tilly I am used to, nor the one I have grown to love. Have you taken a vow of silence?”

She shook her head.

“Okay. Maybe the walk will release the real Tilly.” He rummaged through his bag for his communicator which he slipped into a pocket. “Sorry, fact of life for a captain.”

As they walked Chris explained the cottage was part of a vineyard belonging to a friend. He pointed out the paths to the grape vines, the cellar and the main house. “There is a three-star French restaurant on the other side of the vines, also part of the property. We’ll have a proper dinner in the wine cellar tomorrow.” Tilly found walking hand-in-hand with Chris charming, he was relaxed, smiling, and talking about ordinary things not connected to life and work on a starship. Like they were a real couple.

After about 30 minutes they walked into a clearing with a view of the mountains and just beyond that, hints of the Pacific Ocean. “Oh,” Tilly sighed, “This is stunning.”

Chris nodded. “Especially after months and months of eternal night locked in a ship.”

Waiting for them was a large blanket spread out over the grass topped with a picnic basket. Chris opened the wine as Tilly dug through the basket, exclaiming as she pulled out each item. “This is exactly what I imagined a picnic dinner would be like. The food choices are perfect. Thank you, you thought of everything.”

Laughing and looking a little sheepish Chris admitted, “I wish I could take credit, but well, I confess my talents lie in asking someone to put together a romantic outdoor meal. You might as well know now I am not skilled with this type of stuff, as I have been told repeatedly by those who claim to know.” He handed her a glass of white wine. “It’s a Soave, made from an ancient grape variety originating in Verona.”

“I like it. I didn’t realize you knew about wine.”

“I don’t know anything about wine other than it is good to drink. My friend suggested I memorize that and repeat it to you. He said it would impress you. And that I should point out Verona is a very romantic city. He thinks I need all the help I can get when trying to seduce a beautiful woman.”

Tilly blushed. She loved when he told her she is beautiful. His eyes sparkled and he smiled as if he considered himself fortunate. _How did she get so lucky?_

The evening passed quickly with laughter and quick, soft kisses. They walked back arm and arm in the moonlight. She felt a thrill each time he put his hand on the small of her back to guide her around a tree root or over a rocky patch of ground.

In front of the cottage the nervousness returned. Fast and hard. Intense. Chris put his arms around her waist drawing her closer and leaned down to kiss her. She pulled back slightly before quickly raising her head.

And ramming the top of her head into his chin.

Chris smiled down at her. “Let’s try to avoid trips to the hospital for the next few days, shall we?”

He led her to the sofa and sat opposite on the low coffee table.

He placed her hand on his chest with his larger one over it. Gently he laid his other hand on her chest. “Breathe slowly. Breathe with me,” he instructed. “Can you feel my breath? My heartbeat?”

She nodded and her shoulders relaxed a bit.

“Very good,” he coached. “Feel how our bodies want to be one? How when we are close and touching, even a little, they naturally begin to move together in the same rhythm?”

She nodded again, relaxing more.

With their breath and heartbeats in sync, he settled on his knees in front of her, their eyes now almost level with one another. Cupping her chin in his hand, he tilted her face up and kissed her. Chastely with hints of passion. Long and deep, a promise of what was to come. It left her breathless. He caressed her cheek and kissed the spot joining her neck to her shoulder. Her breath hitched. Shivers ran down her spine.

He whispered in her ear, “I’m going to make you forget all your other lovers…”


	3. The Seduction

Chris caught the mixture of intrigue, alarm, and maybe … delight in Tilly’s eyes. How she was quivering with anticipation but fighting it. _Time to slow things down_ , he thought, and taking her hand, led her to the terrace off the bedroom. “It’s a beautiful night,” he said.

Tilly explored the garden while he built a fire. Chris noticed her frequent glances back to the soaking tub in front of the fire. _Perfect_ , he thought and went back inside to gather what he needed. Emerging from the bedroom, he, once again, memorized the surroundings and Tilly’s location. More than a habit it was automatic. He was constantly aware of everything and everyone around him, in minute detail. An awareness that was often the difference between safety and peril for his crew. He didn’t realize Tilly found this attractive and she wondered what it would be like to have that much attention focused solely on her.

When she wandered back from the garden with an armful of flowers, Tilly found Chris checking the temperature of the bath he had just drawn. _A bubble bath!_ She squealed with delight. “You know, the one thing I miss most on board the ship is a proper bath,” she said beaming.

Chris smiled fondly and went back inside, giving her privacy to undress and sink into the tub. She sighed with pleasure and then quickly sat upright, realizing she was now naked. And she was definitely not, _at all_ , In. Any. Way. ready for him to see her like _that_. Except maybe in a completely pitch dark, black hole like room. In fact, she had already devised a clever plan to keep most of her clothes on this first time. She relaxed again after realizing the bubbles aided her requirement for modesty.

The warm fire, cool night air and fragrant silken bath soon wrapped her in sensuality, and she let herself embrace the feeling.

Chris returned with a tray carrying two pitchers, a couple of bottles and a vase. Seeing Tilly with her head resting against the back of the tub, eyes closed, humming, and idly twirling one hand in the water not realizing the shifting bubbles provided brief glimpses of her breasts and thighs sent tendrils of warmth flowing through his body. She opened one eye (and unfortunately stopped shifting the bubbles) and pronounced, “This is already better than most of the sex I have had.”

Turning to hide a grin he couldn’t suppress and strangling his laughter into a cough, he kept busy putting the flowers she picked into the vase. He had always found her blunt honesty adorable. “Fortunately for me I have a low bar to clear.” Then he added softly, “And unacceptable for such a beautiful woman, you deserve so much more.” Her cheeks reddened. Her toes wiggled. And he assumed she was blushing in other charming places. The image stirred him. And he banked it down, preparing for a lengthy seduction. Filling a glass from the pitcher filled with ice water and fruit he handed it to her and said, “Hydration is important.”

That prompted her to laugh and sit up slightly, shifting those bubbles in delightful ways again. She flashed him a wicked smirk, “Then you should drink the rest of the pitcher.”

“That’s a rather impertinent comment considering,” he teased, raising his head and tilting it towards the robe, towels, and the untidy pile of her clothes. Before she could respond, he placed a chair at one end of the tub and sat down, beckoning her to lean back. After wetting his hands with water from the second pitcher, he started running his fingers through her hair. Again, and again, he drenched his hands and wound them through the curly tresses, dampening each strand.

The feeling was amazing. _I get that my scalp is tingling, but why are my toes? And … other areas?_ She thought. And then she blurted out, “I hate my hair. Sometimes I think my mother is right, I should have it straightened and the color dialed back.”

Chris paused and kissed the top of her head. Twirled a curl around his finger. “I think your hair is perfect. Vibrant, and free. Radiating energy and joy. When down around your shoulders, it’s like you are surrounded by a burst of sunlight.” Satisfied all was ready, he poured shampoo into the palm of his hand and began combing it through her hair with his fingers. Then he continued, “That being said, you should keep it the same or change it only for yourself, regardless of what I – or your mother thinks.”

With the shampoo dispersed, he poured a bit of water over her head from the pitcher, gathered her hair in both of his hands, and began massaging it and her scalp. She never imagined the simple act of having her hair washed – her hair, a part of herself she often loathed – could feel so … so what? … special … sensual … arousing … pampering … carnal. She felt awakened from head to toe. And a warmth in her groin. Not quite arousal but - a pleasant feeling that she didn’t want to end.

With the shampoo carefully rinsed away, Chris massaged in conditioner. And his focused attention caught all the little signs – the hitched breaths, swaying hips, soft moans, her own hand caressing her inner thigh, her fingers tracing the paths left by water trickling down her breasts. Time to ease her back down. He rinsed away the conditioner by slowly pouring water over the back of her head and hair. Dried her hair by gently patting it with towels. Carefully combed it. Then handed her a towel and after turning his head away from her and back to the cottage, offered his hand. She stood, and wrapping the towel around herself, let him help her out of the tub.

“I don’t think I will ever look at a bath in quite the same away,” she muttered to herself as she sat in a chair in front of the fire. Once Chris went inside to change out of his wet clothes, she put on the robe and curled up on the chaise lounge. Chris joined her, putting his arm around her shoulders and coaxing her head against his chest. Later he tilted her chin up, leaned down and kissed her deeply, passionately unlike any kiss she had yet experienced.


	4. The Warm-Up

After taking her hand in his and coaxing Tilly up and off the chaise lounge, Chris led her to the bedroom. She perched on the edge of the chair near the bed while he built a fire.

Once it was burning steadily, he crouched in front of her, sitting back on his heels. Her nervousness returned and her brow creased slightly as she tried to think of ways to stall. “Let’s watch a movie,” she suggested.

“No,” he said quietly, simply. Then raised to his knees. Now at eye level Chris kissed her tenderly, barely brushing her lips. And kissed her again. This time with more pressure, more demand. He opened his mouth wider, catching her lower lip between his and brushed the tip of his tongue across it. And again, this time maintaining the contact longer. She opened her mouth, inviting him in.

Before accepting the invitation, Chris changed his focus, kissing her shoulders and collarbones, supporting the back of her neck with one hand while stroking her inner thigh with the other. Tilly leaned back and closed her eyes, sighing. His hand slipped inside the robe and fondled her breast like a whisper. For Tilly the sensations were exquisite. He drew away for a few seconds to let her catch her breath while he held her cheek and caressed it with his thumb.

The next kiss was open mouthed. Active and fervent. This time, when her mouth opened wider, Chris slipped his tongue in and lightly licked hers. Tilly threw her arms around his neck and kissed him back, hard and fast. His tongue swept the inside of her cheeks and the roof of her mouth. He kneaded the back of her neck as he gently sucked the tip of her tongue. Then repeated the pattern – licking, sweeping, sucking and kneading – twice more.

When Tilly groaned, breathless, Chris got up and walked to the bed. Turning and smiling at her, purposefully flashing the dimples, he beckoned her to join him, palm up, finger crooked. She stood but hesitated, still feeling self-conscious especially about shedding the robe. Ever the mind reader, Chris retrieved a bath towel and moved to stand behind her. Untying the robe’s belt, he gradually pulled it down from her shoulders, stroking and kissing her back as it fell to the floor. “Arms up,” he whispered in her ear and once she complied, wrapped the towel around her, securing it in back. “Wait here,” he ordered.

After gathering what he needed from throughout the cottage, Chris built a firm, but comfortable nest on the rugs in front of the bedroom fireplace and covered it with a soft sheet. He laid her face down, placing a large cushion under her upper chest and a small cushion under her forehead. Sat to her left. Matching the rhythm of her breathing, he then slowed and deepened his. Once she adopted his breathing pattern, Chris open the towel exposing her back. He lightly rocked her pelvic area and then moved both his hands over her body. It was more than a touch, less than a massage. Gentle and stimulating. His breathing hitched, enjoying the pleasure he was giving her.

He rocked her pelvic area again, slightly grinding her against the sheet. Covered his hands with oil and began massaging the area at the base of her spine. First, with one hand on top of the other, using small circular movements. Then with hands separate, clockwise, counterclockwise. As he repeated the sequence – rock, grind, massage – she felt a warmth spread through her. Every now and then a pulse vibrated between her legs.

His hands slid leisurely up to her lower back, opposite her navel. And kneaded her lower back, first with the joined hands small circular movement and then with hands separate, clockwise and counterclockwise. Chris used his whole body, drawing strength from his core and rotating his hips in time to his hand movements. Next, he massaged her middle back, opposite her solar plexus, then her upper back opposite her heart. In between each position change, he lightly rocked her pelvis, maintaining the warmth and pulsing.

Each position change triggered new sensations. As he massaged her upper back, she exhaled very slowly through her mouth and felt like she was falling. Not in a scary way, rather it was freeing. Like the moment her parachute opened during her first skydive. A training exercise that had terrified her until the safety equipment inflated. Then her fall became unhurried and controlled. She had floated to the ground, marveling at the openness and vastness of the prairie. Today she sank into a bed of softness and silk, discovering sensuality. 

Next Chris rubbed her shoulders and neck, the touch now a mixture of massage and caress, interspersed with light kisses on her shoulders, back and arms. He finished by drawing a line up her spine with his fingertips. She shivered.

Clutching the towel to her front, she rose on her elbows and turned to her left to look at him. Rather to gaze appreciatively. OK, to stare greedily. His hands danced over her side and back as he told her she was beautiful. She pushed up further and reached up to kiss him. This time her tongue traced his lower lip and played tag with his – inviting, licking, drawing back, inviting once again. Absentmindedly she let the towel slip down a little and gap open. Seizing the moment, he kissed the swell of her breasts and traced his finger across and around each nipple.

Sensing she was ready for the next step, Chris took off his shirt and held it out, guiding her right arm and then her left into the sleeves. When she started to button it, he put his hand over hers and shook his head. He sat against the foot of the bed and drew her to him, settling her between his thighs, a small pillow behind her lower back, leaning her against his chest. Crossed her legs in a lotus-like position, opening her for exploration. 

Once she was comfortable, he whispered in her ear, “Don’t think, just feel.” He placed his left hand on her lower abdomen and his right on her mound of Venus. His right hand slowly stroked downward. Long and even. When she started shifting slightly, he moved his right hand down and touched her slowly, lightly, here and there. Then began drawing small circles around her labia carefully avoiding the more sensitive areas, awakening not arousing. When she started swaying her hips to the same rhythm, he moved his left hand up to her solar plexus keeping her close to him and balanced.

She tried not to think, to shut down the constant stream of words and ideas that flew through her head. That was proving difficult. So, she tried to focus on what her body was feeling. How erotic it felt to be wearing Chris’ shirt, unbuttoned. Like a tease. Maybe even sexier than being completely naked. How it made her feel less self-conscious, being practically naked but facing away from him. How he was now pressing slightly harder as he continued lazily moving his right hand in those amazing circles. How the warmth was spreading through her pelvis.

He put his left hand back on her lower abdomen, his right hand pausing for a moment, and whispered to her, “Imagine part of the warmth is moving up to my hand. Like a trail of fire.” His right hand started rubbing again, and now, infrequently, tracing the outer rim of her vagina. “Do you feel it?” When she nodded, he moved his left hand to her solar plexus. “Now move the fire up to here.”

Several minutes later he moved his left hand to her heart. “Now move the fire to here. Can you feel it? Can you feel our bodies yearning to be together?”

Here and there, as his right hand rubbed and circled, stopped and stroked her thigh, and then started the circles again, as he kissed her shoulders; he brushed her clitoris and she moaned. For a few seconds she would feel a slight arousal, then he brought her down again. His left hand moved to her throat. And she felt the energy move up to meet it. It moved to her forehead and the energy rose to meet it. Finally, his left hand rested on the top of her head. And those remarkable circles became more rapid, deeper.

The cool breeze from the open windows and doors and the warmth emanating from the fire met, intertwined like a complex harmony. Both brushed against her body. Echoing the rhythms Chris was patiently building between them. And then suddenly as if a circuit breaker tripped and a conduit opened, a current rushed from her buttocks, up her spine, to the crown of her head. And radiated outward, stimulating every part of her body. Tilly trembled. Her every nerve ending was now awake and wanting more.


End file.
